Hello. Is it me you’re looking for…

The Mask, 2018
Not Spilt Milk, 2018
Big and Small, 2018


The Walmart Greeter wasn’t there today. This. This single thing gives me pause. It makes me begin to question, everything.

Paranoid delusion? Perhaps.

On the other hand, it may be keen and acute awareness.

Why, just the handful of things which occurred while in that Walmart, could be highly significant. Something runs amuck. Nefarious. Mysterious. I’ll retrace my steps.

The price of Tylenol is up, at least 30 cents. For the gel caps. And just last week, Alex Gorsky, the CEO of Johnson & Johnson got three new pairs of Nike Running shoes. Those neon green ones with the orange swoosh. Call it a conspiracy theory, but I call it astute curiosity.

That kid in Aisle 4 was coloring on his little sister with Sharpie Markers. The rainbow pack. I see really big things for that kid in the future. Really big things. But I think he was drawing maps. Of what, I do not know.

Walmart is completely sold out of 5W-30 Full Synthetic Motor Oil, for the third week in a row. I think it has something to do with the elevated gas prices and Prince Abdulla Al Futtaim. He was seen playing Candy Crush on his iPhone last week, while in business meetings. The implications of this are tremendous.

It smells like The Subway Restaurant attached here, is baking fresh bread. I think it is a simulated aroma. A psuedo-smell. Psuedo-Smells are everywhere. Don’t be fooled. Well. Except for in the restrooms. I think those smells are actually eeking out of people. This concerns me even more.

That Tyson Chicken in the freezer section looked familiar.

There is a large display of All-Strike Wooden Matches at the cap on Aisle 14. What do they mean, by All-Strike? Strike, like three, and you are out? Strike like a job walkout? Or being hit, smacked, punched, or struck? Or, like suddenly getting a great idea, in the middle of the night, when you are dreaming about little Tonka Trucks moving dirt piles for Bob, the Builder?

In Aisle 8, Bounty, the “Quicker-Picker-Upper” is being sold in jumbo 24 packs. That might be too much, too quick, if you ask me.

The checkout lady is named Madge. Last week, this same lady was named Shirley. About two months ago, it was Alice. I’m serious. I remember because I joked her about “What am I soaking in Madge?” and before that it was “And surely you jest. Please don’t call me surely.” and before that, I said, “Go ask Alice, I think she’ll know.” Each time, she gave me the same, blank, seething stare.”

Yes, something is going on here. Still no Walmart Greeter on my way out. I went to two different doors. Missing. Gone.

Someone left a half gallon of milk on the light post in the parking lot. What does that mean?

Oh sure, be the skeptic. Tell me I am filled with misconceptions.
But on my way home, I truly think a black sedan was following.

And now, I am completely distracted because little Louis is barking at the back door.
Hang on. I better go see what the ruckus is about….